


nobody

by ninjapuppy125



Category: Original Work
Genre: Elemental Magic, Magic, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Switching Perspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-26 18:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19011064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjapuppy125/pseuds/ninjapuppy125
Summary: “Nobody.” That's my name, Or at least, that's what everyone calls me.  I can't tell anyone my real name. When people do know my name... they die.im being hunted, by other people like me. they want me dead. why?my hair is purple.





	1. nobody

**Author's Note:**

> so i actually made this a while ago but didn't really think much about it or of it. now i think im ready to share it. so enjoy nobody, the story of the girl with purple hair.

“Nobody.” That's my name, Or at least, that's what everyone calls me. Let's just say it's not what's on the birth certificate. I can't tell anyone my real name either. When people do know my name. They get kidnapped, tortured and eventually die… or they used to. Now they just die. That's why I don't tell anyone, to protect them. The reason my name is so dangerous is my hair. It's not natural but in today's world, people wouldn't question it. You see, my hair is purple, naturally purple, not a hint of dye in it. My hair has baffled scientists for years, although I never go see them anymore. Too old for their machines. They cant scan me properly. I'm 189 now, hard to believe, but it's just another side effect of my condition. Sure I get lonely sometimes, but losing people doesn't hurt as much anymore. Not as much as my parents' deaths. actually, If I remember correctly, they died on my 4th birthday. 

I had just started to open my first present when a man I didn't recognize ran into the room. He was tall, about 6'2”, had a scar over his left eye, and tangled hair that, I now know, was actually a pure silver, not dull gray, but a pure natural silver. He had on a filthy long sleeve shirt, most likely white, but the dirt made it impossible to tell. His right sleeve had been torn off, as if done by some feral beast, right at the shoulder. He ran over to my parents and said: “their here, they found us, hide!” I wasn’t really sure what was happening, but I was scared anyway. My parents went into action immediately, Mom started sending everyone home while Daddy took me upstairs to my room. He had grabbed a potato sack on the way and we started to pack a few of my personal belongings in it. When we came back downstairs, my mom had gotten everyone on their way. She was talking to the man who ran in, but as soon as daddy and I walked in they stopped. The man stood up and said, “I think that it’s time I left.” I still didn’t know who he was. Didn't really find out till much later, but I trusted him anyway.

Daddy handed mom the sac and said to her “we are almost out of time, hurry.” Mother led me to the backyard and, to my amazement, grabbed a patch of grass and lifted it up, revealing a trap door. She said, in a stern voice I had never heard her use before, “get in”. I obeyed and climbed down a ladder and saw a small room, about 6 ft by 6 ft by 6 ft. She followed and lit a candle I hadn't noticed before. the room looked like a bomb shelter with enough food supplies to last for months, at least 5, I found out. She entered the room and approached an odd looking device in the center of the room. It was almost shaped like a plant bulb but instead of tapering off into a point like normal, it became a cylinder shape. It had a string hanging down from it, she pulled this and my 4-year-old brain thought she activated some form of witchcraft because the bulb lit up. I immediately nicknamed it a lightbulb for obvious reasons, however, I only later found out that that is what it was actually called. 

My mother blew out the candle then knelt down next to me and hugged me saying, “I know this is strange but you need to stay here until someone comes back for you, ok.” 

“Okay, but what is going on?” I replied. She didn’t answer me, but instead, she let go of me and went back up the ladder and shut the trapdoor. I climbed up and apprehensively peeked out. What I saw will haunt me for the rest of my life. My mother was walking towards the house when a group of brightly haired individuals burst through the back door, dragging my father's lifeless body behind them. They threw him in front of her and asked where I was, but she didn’t answer. The person who seemed like the leader stepped toward my mother threateningly. She was short like me but had electric blue hair. She asked again, “Where. Is. The. Girl?” 

My mother stood her ground defiantly. The woman said, ”So be it.” and her hair began to light up like the lightbulb, and I thought I saw mothers hair light up too for a second. Then my mother went flying backward. I didn't shut the trapdoor, my mother landed on it. It was a miracle the people didn't see it. I fell down the ladder and hit my head pretty hard. The last thing I heard before I passed out was, “Search the house, find the child. She's around here somewhere, I can feel it.”

I stayed in that room for almost half a year waiting for someone to come and get me as my mother had said. I never once dared open the door again. I was too afraid of what I would see. When the trapdoor was finally opened and I heard someone call my name, I almost couldn’t believe it. I had begun to think I would be in that room for the rest of my life. I came out and saw the man who had warned my parents. It was at this moment that I finally recognized him. He was that one hobo whom I had always seen across from our house or sometimes even the school. The first thing I said to him was actually the first thing I had said for over 5 months, “Where are they, where are my parents?” 

He hesitated for a second then said, “I should have expected this, (my name). They're gone”. 

“Gone, gone where?” I asked, confused beyond measure. “are they coming back?” 

“They-they aren't coming back”. I cried, cried like the child I was, but what else could I do under the circumstances. “(my name) we need to disappear. from now on, if anyone asks what your name is, you have to tell them

‘nobody’.


	2. a deadly secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> present day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my twist on telling a story. its told as if someone recounting a time past. but he isn't who you think he is.

She stopped speaking, both of us sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, she said, “that's why I'm called ‘nobody’”. The simple sentence shook me from my stupor, “but, what happened next, that can't be the end of your story!”. She looked at me that loving stare that grandmothers have, “so, you don’t just think I’m a senile old lady”. I smiled and said, “well, I never said that”. After a second, We both burst out laughing. After we calmed down she said, “yes there is more to the story, but I am an old woman now. it might be best if we waited until tomorrow to continue”. I realized that even though it had happened years ago, her mother's death must have been an extremely traumatic experience for her and that she probably wanted to have some time to herself. I ended the interview with her for the day. As I was getting ready to leave she said “what time would you like to continue”, I replied with, “you tell me”. We set up the next appointment, and I left.

Walking down the street, I reflected on what I had just learned. I knew this was the person we were looking for, but I couldn't go back to them without a name. Then there was the matter of this women. She is so kind, so quick to trust, but she was dangerous. I ran my hand thru my hair, a bright red (i told her I dyed it… I lied), as I finished my thought, “and she had to be destroyed.”

========================================================================================

When I came back to her house the next day, she was extremely surprised to see me. When I asked why she said, “most of them don't come back.” I realized that a lot of the writers that must come to hear her story probably say they will come back so they don't offend her, not realizing that by not coming back, they hurt her more than just calling her crazy would have. “I'm sorry, that must be hard for you.” “I deal with it.” We got inside and after some friendly conversation, we got back to the story. She began with,” after that, not much happened for a long time, sure there were a few odd things happening, but only one incident stands out in my mind…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just going to put out the next chapter sometime tomorrow. or i guess today, im posting this at midnight.


	3. what comes next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is why you should never bully. OK? OK.

It was my last year of school, back then all the grades were in one large classroom, and I was being constantly bullied by the “popular girls”. The common stereotype of popular girls is that they are stuck up and preppy. It's not entirely true nowadays but that stereotype came from this girl. She was tall, much taller than me, about 6’3”, and had golden hair. No, her’s wasn't naturally that color, her hair was mostly blond but had hints of brown and red in it that gave it a golden color. It's been so long now that I can't remember her name, but she was extremely rude. She would walk around the playground during recess and would berate the other girls trying to make herself feel more important than she was. That or her heart was made completely out of ice.

I was always a favorite target for her harassment. She would insult me every chance she could. I distinctly remember coming out of the schoolhouse one day and saw her picking on one of my classmates. As soon as she saw me she stopped insulting her and instead, came over and started to insult me. My hair, of course, was the favored target of her mockery. (she continues, recounting several instances where this girl would bully her, for almost half an hour.) 

… But I digress, you're not here to hear about her but rather what happened to her. As I said earlier, it was close to the end of my last year of school, April I believe. It was recess for the day and this girl was again up to her favorite pastime, only this time, she decided to take things a little to far. She started with my clothes as she always did, in this way she was slightly friendly, she would find small things that I wouldn't notice like my bonnet being crooked or some other small thing and she would fix it for me. Eventually, though, she would start commenting on how horrible a fashion sense I must have had because of how my outfit didn’t match my hair at all. This would eventually move to her making fun of my hair color in general, only this time, she didn’t stop.

I can still remember what she said, “I mean, how do you even get a hair color that ugly. Your father probably was an ok guy but your mother would have had to be a real hot head for them to get you.” This is where she crossed the line, never before had she made fun of my parents and I was not going to stay quiet while she insulted them. “Shut up.” “what?” “ **shut up!** You have no right to talk about my parents that way.” she would not give it up. “See, what did I tell you, she must have gotten her temper from her mother, why I even bet …” she stopped and looked at me for a few seconds with a concerned look in her eyes, then shook her head and continued. “Where was I, oh yes I bet you didn’t even know your father, your mother's temper probably drove him out of the house when you were still a baby. Speaking of your father, he must have been one coward to run out on his family like that just because your mother yelled at him too …” I snapped “ **how dare you talk about my parents like that! You don't know anything about what has happened to them or to me! My mother was killed right in front of me and you have the nerve to make fun of her!** ” her eyes had grown huge and she was looking at me in absolute horror at this point. “ **As for my father, he was the best man I ever knew or have ever known! He took care of our family for years before they came! He was the first one they killed! How dare you! How dare…** ” at this point I stopped yelling at her because her hair had promptly burst into flames. 

   She screamed and dropped to the ground trying to put it out. When that didn't work she ran to the river that ran behind the schoolhouse and shoved her head into it, but it was too little too late. When she pulled her head back out of the river she was bald, every hair on her head had been burned off. The strange thing was that her scalp didn’t have a mark on it, other than her hair being gone she was fine. Everyone stared at her in shock, wondering what had just happened. Then i felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, but when i looked it was just my uncle Snow, the man with silver hair. He looked at me and said “it's time to go.” i knew what he meant, we had been through this before. We were going to change towns, start over somewhere else. It had happened enough times now that i could understand what was happening from that one sentence. The thing was, it always happened after something unexplainable happened. Something would catch fire or a river would freeze over in the middle of august. One time lightning almost struck my best friend at the time and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. So while it wasn't the first time it happened, it was the first time it felt concentrated, directed, targeted at someone…. Someone, who had pissed. Me. off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is as much as i have. i will start working more on my other story then come back to this one later

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. it's not actually finished yet. i only have a few chapters made. if people like i will continue working on it but for now i dont know if im going to continue.  
> i have another story that im also working on and i might work on that one first so ya.


End file.
